


my ears are tuned to you

by kkumhua (kkumeii)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, bc nobody has written it yet???, im sorry if half of this feels like a character study, its the yumark lap scene during isac, no beta we die like Napoleon's men during the invasion of Russia, or at least as much as I know, or at least i hope so, prone to random edits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkumeii/pseuds/kkumhua
Summary: Today was only Mark’s second time attending the Idol Star Athletics Championships. The massive crowds often felt suffocating, so he doesn't blame Mark for feeling a bit overwhelmed.But what Yuta doesn't understand was Mark's distance from the members—from him.
Relationships: Mark Lee & Nakamoto Yuta, Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 13
Kudos: 151





	my ears are tuned to you

**Author's Note:**

> ~~It's literally past midnight here but alas, here I am with some of my shenanigans.~~
> 
> My first piece of real-person fiction since 2017! And probably my last piece of 2020... Regardless, I'm here with 1k words of Yumark because I've had Yumark brain rot ever since I found NCT this year. With the story, I didn't really write their relationship to be specifically romantic or platonic, if that makes sense. So, feel free to see it however you wish.
> 
> The title is taken from the translated version of Heartbreaker by NCT127.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> **Edit: I thought this was subpar when I read so I edited it. It's now 2k words but 45% more full of typos.**

Yuta notices something was off with Mark from the very beginning.

He wouldn't say that he's the observant type of person who could pinpoint every single thing that was bothering one of his members on a particular day, because he's _not_. But living and working day by day with the same group of people does unconsciously mold a sixth sense in detecting these sorts of changes from others. And he _could_ reason with what the younger male was trying to do, despite his true ambitions hidden behind his calm composure, carefully crafted over the years of being in the public’s eye.

Today was only Mark's second time attending the Idol Star Athletics Championships. With such a large-scale event and groups of popular idols in attendance, the massive crowds that formed often felt suffocating. Even without looking up, Yuta feels the countless pairs of eyes watching him, watching them, watching _all of them_. Males, females, and the people hiding behind the shadowy lenses of cameras observe every single one of their movements and expressions. They're fitted with masks that veil and conceal them; a privilege that idols are stripped of having even before they debut.

With how these arenas are structured, the stars of the show are bound to occupy the middle area. The audience seats span all around, reaching far and wide as humanly possible.

The vast number of spectators from all sides emits the subtlest hint of pressure; the pressure of being watched like a spectacle. Human spectacles disciplined to act as flawless marionettes in front of camera and expected to maintain their personas off-camera. Because someone is always watching them, even when they hope and beg someone isn't.

Yuta spots a camera to his right, unintentionally making eye contact directly in the middle of the lens. His hand slightly twitches and Yuta internally swears the camera managed to record such a miniscule movement, the flickering red light taunting him. It towers over him like a shadowy demon drawn right out of a children's nightmare. Large frame, bulky with a rough voice but nothing to identify exactly what it is. An unknown fearful creature harassing those unknowing of its arrival. The monster right in front of him reminds Yuta that he's always being watched, ever since he signed those papers. It spits the truth in his face like the dark ink binding to the fibers of his contract paper.

So, he doesn't blame Mark for feeling a bit overwhelmed. But what Yuta doesn't understand was Mark's distance from the members—from him.

He learned a few weeks ago that their company’s plan of debuting a new supergroup was set in motion. It was of no surprise to him as the smallest of rumors spread like wildfire among the members, especially by the group chats via KakaoTalk. And a few days ago, their manager announced that out of the nine of them, Taeyong and Mark were chosen. That wasn't a surprise either.

It would've been ignorant for them to act like their prolonged absences from the dorms weren't becoming a regular occurrence. As well as some staff members asking the two to step out of the practice room for a quick minute, only for them to be gone for the rest of practice and until the late night.

Yuta woke up during the middle of the night one day to fetch a glass of water, navigating their kitchen with minimum light to guide his way. While he reached for a wine glass from the kitchen cabinet, the door opened and the sudden noise made him flinch. His pulse raced with his heartbeat suddenly thumping loud in his ears, thinking their stalkers outside had somehow cracked thorugh their security. But his stomach tightened almost immediately seeing Mark stumble through the door with their manager, just having finished practice for the new group. With his face illuminated by the white light of his phone screen, Mark reassured him with mumbled words and a hoarse voice that he was fine. Yuta watched as the younger man and their manager entered their shared room, quickly shutting the door behind them like nothing happened. He saw Mark the next morning during breakfast, declaring enthusiastically that he's raring to practice all while exhaustion lingers behind his eyes.

The two, Taeyong and Mark, happened to be the top workaholics in the group who favor exhausting themselves to the bone unless a person intervened. Taeyong was usually worse, pressured by the ungodly expectations people held for him and his own beliefs in fulfilling them as their leader. So, Yuta was relieved to hear that Taeyong was skipping out on the event this time.

For Mark’s case, the one attending the event, has an entirely different story.

Ever since the morning, Mark seemed out of it. When Jungwoo greeted him in the bathroom while he was brushing his teeth, Mark's eyes remained glued to his phone, not bothering to give some sort of courtesy back. He kept his responses short and straightforward to the point during their light group breakfast. On the car ride to the arena, Mark stared out the window with the bobbing of his head to his music as the only sign that he was still grounded to reality.

These things were never shown in front of the swarming cameras when they arrived but as soon as they entered the building, Mark kept a distance away from the others.

The younger man wasn’t as closed off as Taeyong was when it came to expressing his troubles, who believed he had to shoulder everything on his own. Sure, Mark was definitely shy when Yuta first met him and had difficulty showing vulnerability to others even without a language barrier. But Mark learned how to rely on others.

Or so Yuta thought.

He wordlessly watches as Mark attempts to get some shut-eye again a few feet away, head down with his legs in a criss-cross position. Yuta doubts anyone could ever sleep in such a bright and crowded area, his previous years of attempting to nap through the event supporting it. He's proven right when Mark lifts his head a couple of minutes later but he makes no move to approach or humor the younger man of his failures at sleep. He tried to massage the younger man's sides earlier, hoping to ease whatever was physically bothering him but to no use.

Yuta remains silent as the event continues, brainstorming of ways to help Mark loosen up. Other idols are up and about, gathering for different sports events. Some of them draw out loud cheers from the fans every so often, mostly fangirls chanting a member's name. The announcers are on and off constantly, their voices echoing through the entire arena and commentating the active games. Eventually, in the midst of all of this noise, an idea arrives at the front door of Yuta's brain in its full glory.

Now, Yuta wasn't the passive type. Rather, he's been told by those close to him that he's very upfront on what he wants. That he's willing to impulsively assert himself into bold situations because no one else will. And now, a tugging within him was screaming and pushing him to act.

His eyes shift to his left, observing Mark as he stares into nothingness in the direction away from him. The younger man is leaning back onto his palms, arms slightly twisting against the floor and fingers spread to distribute his weight. Seeing that his focus was clearly directed to someplace else, Yuta grabs the jacket blocking the path between him and Mark. He tosses it to a spot away from him in disregard and slides foward until he was in close proximity. Gently shifting his weight down and adjusting his position, Yuta plops his head on Mark’s lap. The younger continues to stare ahead in silence, providing no reaction to what Yuta was doing. Processing this as an okay to continue, Yuta snuggles the locks of his black hair into the crimson fabric of Mark’s thigh as his arm curls around the knee.

 _It's pretty comfy_ , Yuta quips to himself with a small grin. With his head cushioned, he sighs in content and flutters his eyes close into darkness. Not long after, he feels a slight shift in Mark’s posture to which Yuta could only assume that Mark is now looking at him in his lap, the feeling of a gaze burning a hole through him prominent.

Yuta perceives the slightest of pressure against his hair, which calls to his attention in the midst of his peaceful relaxation. He peeks his eyes open, a bit half-lidded to facilitate their adjustment to the lights. In his peripheral vision, he catches Mark’s fingers threading through his hair.

Yuta remembers a particular day during their trainee times. An exhausting practice left the majority of the trainees hugging the floor, sore muscles present in everyone's bodies. Yuta was one of them, sprawled across the ground, and limbs extended with fatigue. Mark was leaning against the cloudy wallpaper of the practice room, breath still irregular when he called out to Yuta.

“Hyung _,_ ” Yuta lifted his head and Mark lets out a small pant before continuing, eyes sparkling like a child. “Are you sleepy?"

Yuta only stared at the boy, his face blank in confusion at what Mark was getting at. Mark's face scrunched up in a giggle as he lightly patted his thigh. "Isn't the floor dirty and uncomfortable? You'll hurt your head if you lay down like that, hyung. You can use my lap as a cushion."

Yuta grinned mischievously at his suggestion. "Are you sure about that, Markie? I'm expecting it to feel like a memory foam pillow from a five-star hotel."

Mark sputtered out a laugh of disbelief. "Hyung! It's obviously not going to be like that!" A dusting of pink colored Mark's cheeks following his embarrassment and his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you going to use it or not?" Mark pursed his lips, as if he was trying to pout but failing with how much his face scrunched up in the process. Yuta laughed at the adorable sight of Mark's efforts before he nodded. He crawled to the side of the room where Mark was, legs still recovering from the torture it went through and settled into his lap like he was at home. The younger boy let out a small _ack_ when the mass of Yuta's head hit his thigh and mumbled that it was heavier than he thought. Yuta scolded him by retorting that Mark was overreacting. A second of silence falls over them before they laughed.

As the other trainees left to get dinner or head to their dorms, the two of them remained in the practice room and in the same positions. Even as everyone else left, they spent the time there together. They discussed a recent alien spotting based on an article Mark was reading off of his phone, to which Yuta declared with full confidence that Mark was one and ended up being playfully slapped by Mark in retaliation. They watched some videos on each other's phones and played some hand games, acting as if they were stuck in a room with just each other and their phones. Midway through, Mark found his hands entangled in Yuta’s messy and sweaty scalp while he laughed at a story Yuta was telling him, collecting the soft strands together between his fingertips.

Pleased by the nostalgic feeling of years ago, Yuta allows the younger to continue his exploration of the newfound interest in his hair. Mark wordlessly gathers and rubs a pinch of black strands between his fingers, the slightest hint of an amused smile forming on his face. Yuta never bats an eye when Mark soon clutches a fistful of hair into his fingers, causing a slight tug to his head. Yuta shifts his eyes to the left, adjusting his head and neck along with it.

The sight of a young boy fills his vision with a face still filled with hints of baby fat. Small but developing shoulders. Thin arms and a tuft of undyed hair. He remembers how shorter Mark was back and how he would approach Yuta after another day of lessons, tugging on his arms and kneading the stretchy skin of his elbows. _Hyung, hyung! Do you want to go to eat with us?_ Mark would ask in his high-pitched voice, spared by the forces of puberty for another day. His bright eyes looked up to the older man like he was something to be admired, and not just another scraggly teenager training with him.

_Cute._

Yuta blinks, clearing away the illusion. Amongst the drumming in his ears, he listens to the chattering of voices nearby and Mark's light breathing next to his head. The artificial lights from the high ceiling immobilize him for a couple of seconds before his sight clears. He finds himself staring back into a pair of sparkling eyes that crinkle near the ends when the younger man notices that the elder is out from his daydream.

“Hyung,” Mark whispers in a rasp, lips slightly pursed as he tries to avoid drawing attention to them. “Are you sleepy?” He continues in a voice matured like a fine wine, greatly contrasting to the memories of when they first met. Yuta laughs and shifts himself on his lap, whenever it was Mark’s question or his recollections of back then that he found hilarious. Mark simply watches with a fond curve of a smile, his prominent cheekbones sticking out more than usual.

“Mhm.” Yuta hums, nuzzling closer to his thigh as Mark's hand continues to run through his hair. He shuts his eyes again, his remaining senses fixating entirely on the breaths of the younger man next to him.

Yuta feels as if it was only the two of them right at that moment. No crowds of fans, other idols, staff, or even the other members. Just the two of them in this world, like that pleasant day in the practice room years ago.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to mention I wrote an additional 700 words for this work but they ended up being completely useless to the actual story.
> 
> Thank you for reading and have a good morning/afternoon/evening/night!


End file.
